


Red

by DarkStarlet



Series: Windows to the Soul [2]
Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Mates, Murder, Torture, Warning: Kate Argent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-05 07:04:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15165236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkStarlet/pseuds/DarkStarlet
Summary: John shone his flashlight around the silent building, noting the graffiti sprayed here and there. None of it smelt fresh however, nor was there the scent of smoke. In fact, the place didn’t look like anyone had been here in months.He was just turning to leave when a low growl caught his attention, coming from the corner of the room. There, behind some of the massive, rusted machinery, lay Talia Hale, surrounded by mountain ash, and bleeding profusely.





	Red

**Author's Note:**

> Please take note of the tags before reading. If you don't and then complain after reading, it's your own fault.
> 
> Again, this is not beta'd, so if you notice anything please let me know x

Three weeks after John found his son sleeping in Derek Hale’s lap, Kate Argent was broken out of prison. Her trial was the next day, and most likely getting desperate, her people just blasted open the walls of the building, killed numerous guards and prisoners, and took off. Understandably, the Hales, and other wolf packs all across America, became rather tense.

John was working double time, and with Stiles still recovering from his ordeal, Talia had offered to have him move in temporarily. It helped that Derek was still around as the only time Stiles seemed to get any good sleep was when the man was with him. It both comforted and unnerved John to no end. That he couldn’t properly comfort his own child, that some relative stranger was the only one who could… as grateful as he was that Stiles at least had someone, there was a small part of him that hated Derek. Yet without him, he might not have got his son back at all! Frustration was defiantly the main mood in the Stilinski household.

Stiles himself was pretty frustrated. He still had trouble sleeping, and though it wasn’t as bad now, sudden movements near his face had him ducking under his arms. There was one morning when Peter had come to wake him for breakfast, and the sight of a figure standing over his bed had him screaming straight into a panic attack that lasted a good half hour before he was calm enough to interact with anyone again. Derek seemed to be the only one who could get away with it, and even then, he made sure to flash his eyes to let Stiles know he was safe. He hated being so jumpy and vulnerable. Hated that it was taking so long to get back to normal, but nothing seemed to be able to quicken his recovery. It was like his mother had died all over again.

***

Derek wasn’t much one for words, so for him to barely speak three a day was nothing new. It was his actions that caused his mother to become more observant of him. Generally he stayed away from people, and if he had to interact with them, he didn’t speak and certainly didn’t touch them. Since the fire, he generally spent most of his time in his fur, only coming out to complete school and once he’d graduated, go to work. He even slept in his fur! Talia watched him sitting on the back porch one Saturday morning, letting the Stilinski boy lean into his side, his arm wrapped over the youngster’s shoulders. Sometimes actions really do speak louder than words, she thought.

Her main concern was why. Why this boy? What was so special about him? Yes, she could understand Stiles’ affection towards Derek. Her son had saved him from a terrible fate after all, the boy obviously trusted Derek, felt safe with him. Yet, she still could not determine Derek allowing the closeness to continue. 

When Derek went out to work normally, he would drive the long way home, to relax before having to deal with his family. The journey most often taking nearly an hour. Now he was home from work within fifteen minutes, and he almost always drifted to where Stiles was in the house. Her son was a kind soul, helpful whenever he could be, so being there for someone who needed him was something she expected him to do. This was different, like some aspect of his personality had changed. Derek was still the same person all the rest of the time, his behaviour only changed when Stiles was around. Talia began to grow suspicious. Was the boy doing something to her son, or were there outside forces at work? With Kate Argent back on the loose, any changes around Beacon Hills and in particular, her pack, could be a new threat. Now she just had to figure out what was going on.

***

He was dreaming. He knew that, but he still couldn’t wake up. He was back in that room, on the camp bed, three figures standing over him. Two were faceless, but the other. The soft smile and that fucking gleam! He could feel the hands on his body, messing up his clothes, getting closer and closer to-

Stiles screamed.

Derek seemed pretty attuned to Stiles sleep pattern now. He could hear the sudden shift in the boy’s heartbeat and breathing that signalled a nightmare or panic attack from his room. Hence why he was entering the guest room right at Stiles bolted upright, scream ripping through the air, the scent of pure terror acrid and saturating. He shifted, and leapt up onto the bed, nosing the boy’s chin with a soft whine. The tears that soaked into his fur didn’t bother him, but the distress he couldn’t solve was unnerving. Though he knew the only true physical harm were the two hits and the rope burn, Derek couldn’t take this pain away. And he so dearly wanted to.

That night he’d just been trying to escape from it all. Laura had a new car to brag about, Cora kept bitching over and over about the chemistry teacher being a right pain in the ass and some pompous jerk called Jackson. Peter had been the final straw then however. He stormed into Derek’s room, drunk off wolfsbane laced wine, and yelled and cried and blamed him for everything that had gone wrong for the Hale family since he’d been born. His mother had dragged her younger brother away, kicking and still spewing hate, and told Derek to take off for a while. He hadn’t hesitated. 

Seeing that pale, terrified boy, he couldn’t not help! The knowledge that the men who’d hurt him were working for the Argents only made it all the sweeter. Yes, he’d gotten some weird revenge out of it, thwarting some of their fucked up plans, but it wasn’t his motivation. Those eyes… pleading for help, desperately concerned for his welfare and hope still shone through. The boy was so, alive, with it. 

If he could get just a little bit of that hope, he’d cling to it with all that he had.

***

As the days slowly started to turn into weeks with no hide or hair of Kate Argent and her accomplices, John was pretty sure he was going to be bald soon, what with how often he ran his hands through his hair in worry. Alerts were out all over the country, the buses, trains and airports all being watched, the borders locked up against her. Still nothing.

He was looking into Kate’s past dealings in Beacon Hills, and cross referencing them with everywhere else she’d been. The stories generally ran the same basic format. She flirts with a member of the targeted family, drugs and tortures them until they give her everything she needs to kill them all, and then carries out the plan, returning with footage of the family being killed to show her kidnapped victim. Then she cut off their heads, stuck them on a pike outside the wreck of the home, and vanished to find a new family. 

She often kept the fangs and claws of the Alphas to wear as jewellery.

Abandoned warehouses, old caravans, a half burnt train car in an old junkyard. The places she took her initial victim were always changing and keeping track of every place in America that wasn’t in use and some poor kid could be murdered in… next to impossible.

He sighed deeply and looked up at the clock. Time to leave. 

The drive up to the Hale house was cut short however, a call coming in about some delinquents breaking stuff in the old distillery, spray painting and setting fire to stuff. He sent a quick message to Stiles to let Talia know he was going to be late, and then turned on his lights.

***

Stiles and Derek were in the guest room… Stiles’ room. There was a small couch that would fit them both easily, but they instead lounged next to each other on the bed, Derek reading and Stiles playing on his phone. This was a pretty typical night for them, sitting in silence, comfortable just being in the others presence. When the message came through from his dad however, Derek instantly noted the quickening heartbeat from the boy next to him and moved to be closer to him.

‘Disturbance up at the old distillery. Just taking a quick look. Be late for dinner. Tell Talia.’

“It’s her, I just know it Derek, I’ve gotta get up there.” Stiles leapt up and attempted to run from the room, but Derek’s arm about his waist halted him sharpish. He wriggled and tried to fight free, but was no match for the strength of a Were. 

“Let’s check with Alpha. Besides, we’re faster.”

The bulky young man hefted the pale, anxiety-ridden teen over his shoulder and made his way downstairs to the den. Arriving, he instead found his uncle Peter by himself.

“Where’s mum?”

“Hmm? Oh, she just left. Something about teenagers up at the old distillery. Nothing to worry about. She’s going to check it out and call the sheriff if it’s necessary.”

“But my dad just sent me a text! He’s already been called up there. It’s a trap! I just know it.” Stiles yelled as he continued to try and get free from Derek’s grip.

Peter frowned and hit speed dial for Talia, but got no response. He stood, snatching up his cane and stomped off to the hallway where he pulled a hidden switch. The lights in the house immediately dimmed to the point where Stiles couldn’t see a thing, but the wolves would have no trouble seeing through. A shrill, high-pitched, alarm rang out, not just throughout the house, but the whole of the preserve, again, high enough that only the wolves could hear. 

The new panic system called for every member of the Hale pack to go into hiding until the Alpha called them out. He then turned and opened the wall that led down into the panic room.

“Get in.” He demanded. “If it is a trap then we could be sitting ducks here. Anything short of a nuclear blast will pass right over our heads in the new bunker.”

“No! You can’t do this! I won’t! My dad’s out there, I won’t leave him!” Stiles screamed, twisting to the point he was able to sink his teeth into Derek’s shoulder blade. 

With a sharp yelp, the boy was dropped to the floor and he scrambled out of Derek’s grasp and out of the front door before he could be caught once more.

Peter watched his nephew race off after him, and closed the panic door behind him.

***

John shone his flashlight around the silent building, noting the graffiti sprayed here and there. None of it smelt fresh however, nor was there the scent of smoke. In fact, the place didn’t look like anyone had been here in months.

He was just turning to leave when a low growl caught his attention, coming from the corner of the room. There, behind some of the massive, rusted machinery, lay Talia Hale, surrounded by mountain ash, and bleeding profusely.

He ran over and reached out to her, pulling her into a sitting position and holstering his weapon. The one thing he probably shouldn’t have done.

Two gunshots rang out, echoing in the still of the night.

***

Derek ran along just behind the battered jeep headed towards the distillery at what he liked to call ‘stupid-speed’, and could hear Stiles muttering to himself as he drove. This idiot boy he’d so quickly become attached to… did he have a death wish?! What was it with Stiles and trouble that went so well together?

Stiles could tell the Were was following him, he’d caught flashes in his rear-view mirror, but couldn’t bring himself to stop. His father was in danger, he had to get to him. All of his senses screamed at him as he drove, and he pushed the pedal ever harder towards the floor.

***

John gasped in pain, the searing heat of the bullet in his side making his head spin. Talia had enough strength in her to use herself as a shield for the second one aimed at his head, but the amount of wolvesbane now flooding her system was making it hard to do much else.

“Well damn, here I thought this was gonna be like two birds and one stone. Looks like you’ve got some fight in you yet Hale!”

Kate emerged from the shadows, her coy smile making her look just as unhinged as everybody knew she was. Behind her stood a tall, male figure, broad shoulders silhouetted in the faint moonlight from outside.

“Your boy was like that too, you know? But all in all, it didn’t take that much to break him. It never does with your kind, and my daddy trained me well. I know all the right buttons to push.” With that she lifted a small gas canister and started pouring it over the pair, making sure she covered their faces so they would be unrecognisable when she was done.

Talia was doing her best to think up a solution to this mess. She couldn’t believe she’d fallen into this trap! The sounds of distressed Were’s had made her move without thinking, only to get showered in mountain ash and peppered full of aconite. Then, of course, John had to arrive. She wasn’t sure if she would be able to make it out of this, but she would do her best to keep the sheriff alive that much was certain.

The roar of a distant engine gave Kate pause, and she tilted her head towards the open doors.

“Grey, go welcome our uninvited guest will you?”

The figure left, but in the dim light, John could now make out the features of the missing third of his son’s kidnappers. Worse still, he recognised that engine.

Kate grinned as the last of the gas poured over the pair, and she pulled out a flip-lighter, sparking up a cigarette before holding it over them.

“I guess this is goodbye Hale, Sheriff. I’d like to say it’s been a pleasure, but I’d rather shoot myself in the head.”

“I can assist you with that.” Came John’s reply, finally managing to get his hand free to fire his gun without dislodging Talia too much. He fired three times, and behind Kate, Grey came flying through the air, landing with a sickening thud. A familiar blue jeep hadn’t slowed down at all once the man had been recognised.

***

Derek reached the door of the jeep and pulled a hyperventilating Stiles from the cab, just as three loud gunshots echoed around their heads along with a cry of pain.

Flames suddenly leapt up from the back of the room, and a body suddenly came flying towards them, knocking the pair to the ground. The now unconscious Sheriff rolled off them, his gun falling to the ground, still smoking.

Derek knew his mother was in there, knew Kate was too, he could smell them. He stood and marched into the smoke anyway.

Stiles clutched his father close to his chest, fumbling for a second with the dropped weapon, and then pointing it into the dark, hazy interior of the rusty building.

***

“D’rk?” Talia croaked, the flames eating away at her skin. John was safe. She’d managed to throw him with some of her last strength in the general direction of her son, out over the flames. He’d likely have some bruises, maybe a broken bone, but he’d live and that was all that mattered right now. The fact that her son was here terrified her though. 

“D’rk… go… g’t out…”

Laughter surrounded her, that twisted Argent bitch still kicking even after three bullets had passed right through her.

“Derek! Here puppy, puppy! Mommy’s waiting for you!” She taunted from the shadows.

The young man himself did his best to ignore her words, and instead attempted to drag his mother from the fire. His right arm and that side of his face were caught in the flames, and he couldn’t help the scream of pain that was ripped from his throat. He managed to get a grasp on… something, and pulled it towards him, pulled it as gently into his arms as he could, and then dove out of a ragged hole in the old iron.

Kate’s lips wrenched into an ugly sneer, and she turned away from them, towards the boy.

***

Stiles didn’t notice the woman sneak up behind him, he was concentrating too much on the fire leaping higher and higher though the distillery, and on his father’s flickering eyes. 

“Dad? Dad?! It’s gonna be okay, we’re gonna get you to the hospital, just hold on okay? Don’t leave me too.” he begged.

“Aww, isn’t this touching?”

***

“Mom?”

“No. D’rk. Stiles. Go t’ him. Need you…” Her breaths were becoming more laboured now, the combination of burns, smoke inhalation and wolvesbane bullets too much for even her Alpha’s advanced healing to compete with.

“T’ke it, D’rk. I h’ve t’ go, so you t’ke it now.” She managed to raise one lump of charred flesh to her son’s brow. It must have been her hand at some point. The sudden rush of Alpha power raced through Derek’s body, and he pleaded with his mother to stop.

“No! Mom, don’t! You need it, keep it!” Though he was not one for emotion, the anguish he felt in this moment seemed to be tearing him apart, he couldn’t breath from the weight of it, crushing his lungs and choking him.

“Go. Pr’t’kt yu’r mate… prot’ck yu’r pack.”

Silence reigned as she suddenly fell still, once that seemed to stretch on forever.

Until it was broken by two more gunshots and the Sheriff’s scream.

“Stiles!”

***

Kate stood over the Stilinski men with a vicious grin, blood staining her teeth. If there was ever a picture perfect moment to display a true psychopath…

Stiles gasped, hands clutching his chest where the two bullets from his father’s stolen gun had slammed into him. He couldn’t breath. He was trying to scream but nothing was coming out. His father, barely conscious beside him tried to apply pressure to the wounds, but there was so much blood…

A vicious roar shook the trees, and for a moment, Kate looked concerned. She quickly recovered and pointed the gun towards the boy drowning in his own blood at her feet.

“Puppy?!” she called in a childish, sing-song, voice, “Such a pity. Mommy’s up and kicked the bucket, and now your sweet little human pet is about to do the same. Doesn’t that make you angry?”

A blur slammed into her from the side and she cried out as the barely sane Derek Hale tore her limb from limb with his claws and teeth, the gun clattering useless to the dirt.

“Derek? If that’s you, you’ve gotta get over here and help Stiles. She shot him, he’s gotta get to the hospital.” John called desperately. He’d managed to pull himself into a somewhat slumped upright position, leaning on Stiles’ chest and trying to stem the bleeding.

The new Hale Alpha stumbled over and fell to his knees next to the boy.

Glowing red eyes regarded the sheriff darkly.

He then sunk his fangs into Stiles’ shoulder, and prayed for his mate to survive.

**Author's Note:**

> Part 3 - Gold - Complete


End file.
